Bittersweet

My Dad hired me a personal trainer. This is fantastic and friggen horrible at the same time.

It is fantastic because I am dropping weight like pigeons drop shit. It is horrible because I have to get up at 4:00 am every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday so I can get my ass kicked.

I wish I would just get my period already, so Mr. Rootbeer and I can get back into the baby making business. The anxiety of not knowing when it will show is driving me insane.

I feel pretty good lately. I know the excercise is helping. It feels good to lose weight. My clothes fit better, my face looks slimmer. I feel amazing. It also helps me focus on something else besides getting pregnant again. I need another goal. Becoming a mommy has been my goal for the past 8 months, and now that I have been forced to move that to the back burner, I need something new to focus on.

I went to my parents house last night to jump in the hot tub, since I could barely walk due to the 36 flights of stairs I ran up and down on Monday morning. While I was there my mom gave me a pile of mail that had come to their house for me. Inside the pile sat a ticking time bomb. I know she knew it was in there, because she had gotten one too. An invitation to my cousins' baby shower. I opened the envelope and rolled my eyes when I saw the cute little stork on the front of the card. I winced when the registry card for Babies R Us fell into my hand.

I am so happy for my cousin, she has been trying to concieve this little one for over 4 years. I was so elated when I first found out she had finally gotten pregnant. And now I am just an asshole. My joy for her is gone. I am dreading the day of the shower. I will die if they make me play those stupid baby shower games. I know I will struggle watching her open gifts. I know my time will come and GOD willing, I will have my baby. But, I want that baby. I want that baby more than anyone will ever understand. I want back all the bloating, all the nausea, the puking. I want it all back, because it meant I was pregnant and it was nothing compared to the pain I am feeling right now.

Alas, I am going to go. I have to. I will have my mom go shopping for the gift. I will hide in the bathroom while she opens them and everybody ooohhhs and ahhhhs. And I will sit outside and smoke an entire pack of cigarettes while my aunts and cousins play "Guess Mom's Belly Size."

This miscarriage has made me so bitter. Which in turn makes me sad. I want to be happy for my cousin, I want to play the games, and gawk at the onesies and crib bedding. I know that deep inside I am happy for her, it's just that my coping skills are currently a work-in-progress.

Ohhh, I almost forgot, I went to a Dave Matthews Band show on Saturday night and some pretty amazing shit happened...more to come later. It deserves its own post. A post with not one single mention of babies.